


Metanoia

by Sins_On_The_Side



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, F/F, F/M, Mpreg, No Actual Sexy Times, Porn With Plot, Pre-Canon, Self-Hatred, Skeleton Pregnancy (Undertale), angsttttt, hurt comfort mostly, more of kink stuff, sans is a dumbass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:28:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28353930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sins_On_The_Side/pseuds/Sins_On_The_Side
Summary: Metanoia, noun: The journey  that accompanies the changing of one’s life.This definition becomes startlingly relevant to Sans’s life after he makes anouther promise.
Relationships: Alphys/Undyne (Undertale), Sans/Toriel (Undertale)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Metanoia

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! So this is mostly a what-if ditty to satisfy my raging needs for Soriel hurt-comfort. Basically the idea is that ‘What if Sans went through the whole game while harboring a particularly rough secret’. That’s it. I guess this could be considered an Au??? Idk, I just felt the need to write it one day and it happened. Enjoy!

Oh fuck. 

Those words were on a loop, reverberating through Sans’s skull as he gazed into the bathroom mirror. He shook his head, trying desperately to rip his eyelights away from his reflection. 

Oh fuck. 

He felt the sweater he’d just been wearing slip from his hands, falling uselessly to the floor. The skeleton didn’t even try to retrieve it. He let his arms dangle at his sides, hands twitching every few seconds. 

Oh fuck. 

He’d just wanted to take a shower. That was all. Just a quick little rinse off before he started the day. It seemed his fatal mistake had been taking off his shirt, revealing an unwelcome surprise that had left him frozen for who knows how long. The mirror all but confirmed his worst fears. 

His reflection was normal enough. Same exhausted eyes and haggard smile. Same sagged shoulders and aching back. Same long, slim scar running down his ribs, one that he could never quite place where he’d gotten it. Those familiar old features weren’t what he was focused on. 

No, his attention was entirely drawn to what could only be described as his belly. 

Between his ribs and his pelvis sat a strange film of magic mimicking the shape of a midriff. It was pudgy and a little soft, just a gentle slope that pushed out a little. He could see his spine and the tips of his pelvis through the dull blue ectoplasm inside of it. 

But that really wasn’t too strange a sight. This thing appeared when he ate too much and needed a place to put that extra magic. Nono, what really was freaking him out with the tiny speck of concentrated magic resting just above his pelvis. It was blink and you’ll miss it, merely a tiny boat in an ocean of weird blue ectoflesh.

Yet, it scared the shit out of him.

He’d squinted and examined, he’d moved to different angles. He’d even brushed up against the glass and folded to get a good look. There was no denying what was idly floating in his new found belly. 

An itty bitty little souling. 

The tiny upside down heart burned weakly, barely even glowing. It was dull grey in colour, not yet strong enough to sport the brilliant white of a normal monster. Yet, still it persisted, feeding off his magic to hold itself together. 

Sans grimaced, adjusting himself in the mirror again. His stomach was pushed out a little, the tip extending a centimeter or two past his ribs. Though, that might have just been because he was on the chubbier side. 

The tiny souling stayed in place. He was even beginning to notice the light blue orb around it, ever so slightly more solid than the rest of his belly. He suspected that it was some sort of magical food source for it. Another wince shook his frame, his worst suspicions confirmed yet again. 

He’d gotten himself knocked up.

Sans cringed, sneer deepening. He briefly considered taking a bone to the damn thing, snuffing out this whole situation entirely. He wasn’t built to incubate this kid, let alone raise it. His magic wouldn’t be enough to support a souling, he just knew it. It’d crumble away before it had the chance to grow up. And if it didn’t… he’d be a really crumby dad. 

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to do the deed. 

He was too soft. As much as he hated the idea of letting this thing feed off his shitty self a second longer, he hated the idea of killing it more. It was too there, too alive. Small and weak, but alive. And that was at least something. 

Plus it’d hurt like hell. 

Yeah. He’d probably sit this one out. As much as he could anyways. It’s not like time wasn’t going to turn back soon. They were due for another reset any day now. Hell, who knew how many times he’d already stared into this mirror wondering the same awful things. 

And of course, there was also the kid's mother. 

He couldn’t fully remember her face, thanks to the sheer amount of alcohol they’d both consumed. But he remembered her smile. How her nose crinkled when she laughed, and how her ears turned red when she blushed. Her warmth, both through words and when she held onto him. She was soft, but firm, like the perfect pillow. 

He’d never thought he’d get lucky enough to see her face. 

But, it had been one of their drinking nights. They had them about once a month, when life was getting them down. A harmless good time resulting from two monsters having a little too much time on their hands. He’d sneak out with some beer, and she’d break out her wine, and they’d get shit faced in the snow. 

But last time was different. 

He was still sober enough to remember running out of liquor. He would’ve stumbled home like usual, or fallen asleep against the door. But, neither were ready to feel alone again. And, out of the goodness of her heart (and a few too many strong drinks herself), she’d let him in to break into her wine cabinet. 

After that it was mostly a blur. He vaguely remembered a comfortable chair, and spinning beige walls. She’d thrown her arm over him once, so wined up that he could reduce her to stitches with the cheapest of jokes. 

And then, when the night had cooled down and they’d eased the pour, his most prevalent memories were born. They’d been at her table, and a look had crossed her now blurry face. She’d swirled her wine, he believed, and told him very sternly that she had a problem and didn’t know what to do. 

The details were sharper at the time, but with the days gone and the amount of wine consumed they were a little fuzzy now. 

She wanted a baby. She was terribly lonely (even with his much appreciated conversations) and wanted someone around the house. She wanted to care for a child again, watch them grow up safe and happy. Most of all though, she wanted someone who could continue her work if something happened to her. She just didn’t know how to get one. 

So he did something stupid. 

It took two souls to create a child, and she had one perfectly good one in her chest. She just needed a second, someone who was willing to be a donor. And, fueled by liquor and his admiration for this woman, he’d stupidly offered himself up. 

It was easy enough. After some light discussion and a few more drinks they were ready. She produced her soul, a brilliant thing that shone brighter than any he’d ever seen. And he’d produced his, which was already drab and grey but now even more so by comparison. Then they’d simply mixed magical energies for a few moments. 

It was almost a fond memory, had it not been for his predicament. Her magic was strong and warm like she was, like a clean bed or a fresh slice of pie. It felt like he was being engulfed by love and affection, with just enough sweetness to make it feel real. It was nearly enough to lull him to sleep.

And just like that, the deed was done. 

Such a life changing series of events, done in three easy steps. Nothing complex, nothing mind boggling. Just the soft embrace of two souls and then it was over. 

The rest of the evening wound down from there, barely a blur against the previous events. She had been incredibly thankful, he’d thought, and decided to cut herself off now that she may have been carrying their child. 

The idea had almost made him smile. 

Then he’d woken up in the snow the next morning, hungover and surrounded by his beer cans. The door was closed as always, and part of him had been wondering if it was a dream since. And, even if it wasn’t, this wasn’t supposed to concern him. 

He was supposed to just provide the necessary extra soul for this kid. Let the door lady take care of the rest. Mabey pop in now and then to give her some magical support. Nice, easy, simple. Just the way he liked it. It’s not like they’d ever reach term anyways, what with time being all fucked up. 

It wasn’t supposed to stick to him. 

He wasn’t strong enough to support this kid. And even if he was, how was he even supposed to explain where it came from! Monsters didn’t just get knocked up like this. Both parties had to want the baby, even if it was just for a moment. It wasn’t like anyone in town was desperate for a child, let alone enough to procreate with him of all people. Maybe if he just skipped out on Grilby’s or shut himself in or-

Oh god. How was he going to tell Papyrus?

That he was carrying the child of some mysterious woman that he’d never once mentioned. That he wasn’t sure what was going to happen if and when this kid was born. That he didn’t even know the other parent’s name? Yeah. Papyrus would think he’d lost it. 

Sans ran his hands down his face, suppressing the urge to hit the wall. Why did this all have to be so fucking difficult?

He was getting ahead of himself anyways. The timeline would be restarting soon, so he probably wouldn’t have to deal with this too much longer. Hell, this probably wasn’t the first time he’d even come to that conclusion. 

Until that happened, he could just hide it. He took another look at himself in the mirror, examining how big he was. He barely looked pregnant, so it would be easy enough to just wear baggy clothes. They were all he wore these days anyways. 

Yeah… This could work. He’d just have to pretend this wasn’t happening until everything restarted.

Sans shot his belly one last sharp look before tugging on the turtle neck. It was kind of surprising how normal he looked in the mirror. Just the same old skeleton from down the block, the funny guy who took too many naps and didn’t have a care in the world. 

He scoffed, short cutting to his room.

The skeleton ended up next to his mattress, staggering from the effort. Dots briefly appeared in his vision, breath cutting out for just a moment. 

Ok. Maybe it wasn’t wise to be doing something that magical before breakfast. 

He supposed if he was going to survive this, he was going to have to conserve magic for the kid. That meant no more shortcuts, or time stopping, or levitating things to himself. At least not until he’d eaten something for the day.

Ugh. This meant he was going to have to give up drinking as well. Considering how weak he was, it wouldn’t be a good idea to do anything that could even be remotely harmful to the souling. He supposed that also included most of his habits. 

He grimaced, realizing exactly how hard this was going to be.

The skeleton flopped onto his mattress, deciding to just tell Papyrus he wasn’t feeling well if he tried to get him to work. Sans just wanted to sleep, pretend this wasn’t happening to him and that he wasn’t about to embark on the hardest journey of his life. 

He rolled onto his back, finding both his front and sides uncomfortable. That was probably going to become a new normal too. He really should tell the lady about this instead of laying in bed all day. She deserved to know this had been a success. 

Eh. He didn’t want to give her false hope. 

There was no certainty this thing would stick around longer than a few days, considering how weak it’s incubator was. And if it disappeared on her she’d be devastated. And then she’d probably want to try again, which he didn’t think he could muster. So, he’d just do nothing instead. 

It was what he was best at. 

Hey, at least the little leach was giving him an excuse to just lie around and eat. Even if no one else could know that. At least he wouldn’t feel the least bit of guilt for failing to meet his brother’s expectations. 

Heh. Yeah… he might be able to enjoy this a little before it all turned back. 

His eyelids were getting heavy now. He was rather worn out from all these pesky revolutions and emotions. Not to mention the magic he’d just expended. 

Sans barely caught himself finally resting a hand on his stomach before he drifted off to sleep. 

Yeah. This might work

**Author's Note:**

> New chapters will be coming in soon. This fic will update kind of souratically thanks to bigger projects. But don’t worry! It’ll happen soon. Sorry if this is a strange premise. I’m just having some fun! Goodnight!


End file.
